The Trouble with Treasure
by Lady Lan
Summary: Space pirates, cops, petty thieves, train conductors, swordsmen, and just a dash of insanity when dealing with the likes of these. Cross Epoch Universe. BV GC ect
1. In which there are Royal Bastards

Floating on the edges of space, Bulma Briefs was cold. She was also tired. More importantly she was really, really bored.

She kicked her feet on the curved lip of the control panel, crossing one booted ankle atop the other while cracking her neck. The large, panoramic windows displayed the vast darkness of the cosmos spreading in all directions around her, and though it was a breathtaking sight it was something years of space travel had made rather monotonous. Leaning back further in the pilot's chair, she released an open-mouth yawn as she heard the thudding of her partner's feet approaching the control deck.

"I brought you some coffee," Nami spoke, just as the other woman was finishing her yawn. "You make a pretty lousy watch when you're asleep."

"I'm a pilot." Bulma released an exaggerated sighed, taking the enamel mug in her hands and blowing on the surface of the steaming black liquid, "_and _a mechanic. I believe 'navigator' falls under your job description."

"And here I thought we were partners. Outlaws," the redhead tapped a polished nail against her chin. "Sans silly things like job descriptions."

It had been four weeks since their last job, four weeks since Bulma had failed to find a compression coil cheap enough to purchase, or one lying around long enough to steal. And so she'd decided to deposit the _Royal Bastard _on a sand-coated planet in the T-quadrant in favor of 'borrowing' their current vessel. Four weeks since they'd been on land, four weeks since they'd spoke with anyone, four weeks since they'd had fresh food, and four weeks since they'd taken a proper shower.

"Sorry." Bulma sighed. "I'm just cranky because I'm filthy." Her mouth fell into a frown, lower lip brushing the warm mug. "Next time we commandeer a ship, make sure there's a fucking shower on board."

"But," Nami grinned, slapping her hand against the curved wall of their still unnamed ship and trying to ignore her grimy hands, "the guns on this baby!"

The smack of Nami's palm on metal echoed around the small, cramped control room and Bulma eyed the laser launchers warily. They had little time as they'd scoured the docking bay where the broken ship was parked, and Nami had insisted on picking a craft with proper guns this time.

"She needs a name."

At Bulma's words, Nami cocked her head and surveyed the dinted chrome walls. "Think we'll stick with her long enough to bother naming her?"

The blue haired woman looked offended. "Nami, we only had _Royal Bastard _two months and we named it."

Shooting her friend a knowing look, Nami grinned and started back towards the hatch. "Stay awake Bulma. If you get us off course," her eyes narrowed, "_again, _we'll be behind schedule."

Resituating her legs on the panel Bulma took another long swig of coffee. "Yeah, yeah." While she enjoyed their lifestyle for the fun and adventure, Nami was incredibly focused on getting the job done, and getting it done right and for maximum profit. And so, for her friend and business partner, Bulma tried to keep her eyes open long enough to ensure their course.

When she awoke she realized three very important things. One, she had fallen asleep. Two, her coffee had spilt across the control panel, which was now smoking and making a strange crackling sound. And three; Nami was going to be very, very pissed.

* * *

><p>There are few things more beautiful than the sunrise above the ocean. No matter what the planet, sparkling water and a sun, or suns, rising in the distance was a sight. He took a bite from his apple while leaning back on his free arm, head tilting back to catch the warm rays of sun just as they were splaying across the sky.<p>

Though he took another noisy bite from the fruit, he still heard the heavy footsteps closing in from behind.

"Goku," he called, not bothering to watch as the taller man knelt by his side, eyeing the three apples now just right of his left foot. "Help yourself."

It was only out of courtesy that he'd offered, and his tone was laced with sarcasm. Had he known the other man would be waking at sunrise, something he rarely, if ever, managed, Luffy would have picked more fruit. And if he didn't offer, Goku would take one anway.

"Why are you up so early?"

"Oh," Goku managed through a mouthful of apple; "I had the weirdest dream."

"S'probably something you ate."

With an inconspicuous glance at the fruit, Goku shrugged and took another mouthful.

They sat in silence for a bit, until the sun was completely situated above the horizon and a second was reflected in the clear face of the water.

Luffy tossed his apple core off the cliff and into the ocean. "So, what'd you dream about?"

"It was all very strange," Goku scratched his head as he collected hazy fragments of the dream. "On Krillin and Chopper's planet, some guy became the new king, and Bulma and Nami, and Vegeta and Piccolo and Roshi and you and everyone was there."

Stretching out his legs, Luffy nodded as his friend continued to babble.

"It was the Great Dragon's birthday, and we all got together to celebrate over pink cakes and tea."

"Hm," the shorter man said with a lopsided grin. "Vegeta, Zoro and Piccolo ate pink cakes at a tea party?"

"I told you," Goku tossed the remainder of his apple aside and reached for a second, "it was strange."

"Bastard!" Luffy hit the other man's palm, and the pilfered apple fell from Goku's hand, spun midair catching a gleam of sun before plummeting downward off the side of the cliff. "Now there's only one left. Hey!"

Goku grinned, already chewing on the final apple. He got to his feet as he finished the remainder of the fruit while Luffy glared at the sun in the distance.

* * *

><p>He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. The man before him continued to talk, animatedly flapping his hands about while his large lips moved quickly. The speed at which he spoke caused a vein near his temple to throb painfully, and suspecting that it was a rather important ingredient of his anatomy he lifted a hand to soothe it. He then squeezed his eyes closed and exhaled into his wrist, just inches from his face as he continued to massage the pesky vein.<p>

Already interrupting twice to let Usopp know to _get to the fucking point already_, Vegeta, Pirate Captain and Prince, was only listening because the man held vital information. He always seemed to be in possession of knowledge that made it imperative he stay alive. A habit Vegeta would have found impressive, if he weren't so pissed.

"Usopp," a cool, feminine voice interrupted. Both men turned toward the slender woman peering up from a clipboard she held at her chest. She met Usopp's eyes and frowned slightly. "Today, please."

"Ah, yes, of course Lady Robin." He bowed slightly and wiggled his eyebrows and though the woman seemed entirely unaffected, Vegeta's blood began to boil. Not because he minded the attention paid to his councilor, but because it was _once_ _again _postponing the never-ending story.

"The ship," Vegeta growled. His voice was a low and throaty; neither in his company expected anything but.

"Well, we found it, but it seems it's since been abandoned." Usopp shrugged, remembering the rather detailed tales of its condition. "The engine was repaired hastily, but effectively, except for a part that needed to be replaced. Also," he swallowed, audible from the prince's position across the room. "It was littered with diet soda cans and there was freesia body wash in the shower."

Vegeta closed his eyes to ward off further frustration. These facts did not help him trace who had stolen the ship from, quite literally, right under his nose. "And what is that supposed to mean, idiot?"

Scratching his neck, the lanky man pursed his lips. "Well, sire, I think it means your ship was commandeered by women." He cleared his throat. "Women who know a thing or two about ships."

"Fucking bitch," he mumbled, more to himself than his attentive companions. While Usopp was nervously shifting his weight from one large foot to the other, a shallow smile graced Robin's lips. She quickly covered it with her clipboard and tried to remain businesslike as she asked the captain what he would like to do next.

It was never wise to question Vegeta, but fortunately for the other parties involved he was preoccupied with his thoughts of exactly what he was going to do when he got his hands on his least favorite pair of petty thieves.

* * *

><p>Thanks a billion-jillion times to <strong>koii<strong> for helping me with my insane idea, and for making sure the One Piece characters don't fly off the handle. If I could ship you my thanks in cookies, I would.

Don't expect too much from this. Just needed to write something before NaNoWriMo, and I've always been saddened by the lack of Cross Epoch love expressed through fanfiction. I'm not really sure where this is going, but join me. This is my first fly by the seat of my pants story, so we'll see.

If you are unfamiliar with CE, here's a link to the Manga. It's only about 20 pages, and if you don't want to read it you can still look at all the pretty pages Mr-inaf colored:

gallery/26571168

Yes, there is lots of silliness. And this story will be just as ridiculous. Like I said, don't expect anything high-brow outta this one. Instead look for an outlandish plot peppered with panty jokes.

You've been warned. :D


	2. In which there is an alibi

If anyone from his real life could see him now, they would double over in laughter. Not simply because the sheathed sword at his back now dangled a rather conspicuous red tassel, or even because of the strange golden horns sprouting from either side of his head. It also didn't have anything to do with how he was suddenly flying around on _his father's _ship, a fact he could not mention aloud seeing as to how his father was a rather vicious bastard with a firm understanding that Trunks was only ten or so years younger than himself. Not to mention Vegeta had no knowledge of having borne a heir since, technically, he hadn't. Though the lavender haired boy suspected he might prefer to go ahead and acknowledge him so as to not bother going about the process in the first place.

Not that Trunks understood the inner workings of Vegeta's mind in order to gage how his father felt about breeding or sons or, well, anything that could be considered personal. Had he known his father in his own timeline he'd more than likely still not have had a conversation breaching intimate matters.

No, the reason his friends and family would laugh was because for the first time in his sixteen years, Trunks had absolutely no clue as to what to do. He'd survived the slaughter of his people, the murders of the last of his friends, and watched the death of his mentor, but had always managed to stay serious and confident and sure. But the fact of the matter was Trunks had absolutely no idea what he was doing here. Or how he'd gotten there. Well, he had a general idea of _how_, but no notion of how it was possible. Or why, for that matter, he'd somehow skipped from 'alternate timeline' to 'alternate dimension' and nothing was as it was supposed to be.

His mother had smiled that sad, weathered smile of a woman who had outlived everyone she loved and bid him good luck and farewell. The plan was simple: Go back in time, warn his father and friends about Dr. Gero's androids so they could escape their fate and return in three years to help fight the brother-sister duo that made his life a living hell.

Instead, he'd turned the dial on the time machine, been knocked out, and had woken up on a planet he'd never heard of to a people he'd never seen before. Apparently they'd flagged Captain Vegeta since the mysterious boy had horns and, _hey_, why not.

Trunks frowned and touched the new features, shaking his head. Weird.

He'd waited patiently, baffled by circumstance, until a man looking just as the pictures of his father approached. Except this Vegeta had horns, an eye patch, and possession of a wardrobe far more ridiculous than he suspected anyone his mother could have fallen for.

Apparently his horns made him trustworthy and his _ki_ ensured he'd be a formidable ally. Vegeta had taken him onboard and the rest was history.

At first he'd chalked it up to a bad dream. Except dreams didn't last this long, and it certainly didn't hurt this much to get kicked in the stomach during training sessions.

And he still didn't understand how he'd gotten there. Trunks pulled the capsule from his belt and fingered the cool metal with a thoughtful frown. It was broken from the crash, but perhaps he could have Usoop take a look at it, if only the man wasn't so flighty. The ship was broken, but with a little repair he knew he could return to his own world. He just didn't know how to find someone who could fix it for him without being labeled certifiably insane. Which he was ninety-eight percent sure he wasn't.

* * *

><p>"Whatever you do, don't look down."<p>

At her partner in crime's words, Bulma's blue eyes darted downward and she immediately skidded to a stop.

"Bulma," the redhead shouted, casting a brief look back as she continued to sprint ahead, "I said _don't_."

"Well you shouldn't have said _anything_," she shot back, but she did lift her gaze from two hundred foot drop elapsing beneath their feet between the metal slats of the walkway they were bustling across. Once Bulma was confident her stomach was still situated somewhere inside of her belly, she took a deep, calming breath and picked up her pace.

Nami continued a few paces ahead, the duffle bag slung over her thin shoulder bouncing against her hip as she sprinted towards their ship. It was pleasantly full, and she wanted to live long enough to count out the exact amount. She was usually in favor of stealing more ornate treasures, but she was never one to pass on cold, hard cash.

Once the vessel came into view, Bulma sighed in relief as the other girl opened the hatch and tossed her bag inside. Nami held open the door with one hand until the blue haired woman flung herself inside, and as she was slamming the door closed and locking it securely, Bulma fired up the ship for takeoff.

The launch was relatively smooth, and both women watched the welcoming sight of the blackness of space as it encompassed the windshield. Their breathing returned to normal and their heartbeats slowed to a somewhat standard pace.

It was calming, the stillness of their surroundings rather serene. And then, Nami broke the silence. "Dammit Bulma!"

The other girl flinched slightly, biting down on her tongue and loosening her iron-grip. The spaceship gave slightly as a result of her release on the controls. She'd been waiting for the freak-out that was to come, however, and fully ready to shrug off the blame.

"You said no one would be guarding the safe during lunch!"

"Well, I tapped into the security feed every day last week, and the guard left each day at the same time without bothering a replacement." Bulma let out a frustrated sigh. "It happened six days straight. No mistake, just our shitty luck he wasn't hungry this afternoon."

Nami's arms crossed against her chest. "Shitty luck that could have gotten us killed."

"But it _didn't_." Bulma winked. "We're alive and, hey, look at that, we got the money so it's all good."

"All good?" Nami blinked in disbelief, though the other woman's calm demeanor never faltered. "He saw us Bulma!"

"Just for a second," she shrugged, "and then I knocked him over the head with the fire extinguisher. It wasn't murder, just a loss of a few thousand dini. If he's smart, he won't blab that he got knocked out by a couple chicks. Trust me Nami, the only thing we've got to worry about is how we're going to spend this money."

* * *

><p>"Alright Krillin," Chopper chirped. At the sound of his name, the bald man in turned to watch as the small reindeer tipped his pink hat. "I'll go sound the horn and round up the passengers!" he sang before scampering off, leaving Krillin alone in the engine car with his thoughts.<p>

He quite liked he and Chopper's train tour business. It wasn't mind-numbingly dull, he got to set his own hours, and though the route was rather repetitive, he enjoyed having a never-ending supply of tourists to laugh at his recycled jokes. Though sometimes he wished his friends weren't worlds away doing Kami-knows what while he did the same thing each day. Krillin was lonely, and truth be told, more than a little starved of female company.

He wasn't even looking for sex necessarily. Though that would be nice. No, it was simply a lack of social life, and a shortage of women in general. He watched through one of the small, round windows as his bubbly friend gathered the slew of camera toting, fanny pack-donning tourists. He wondered what part of 'vacation' implied dressing like a toddler and wearing a constant doe-eyed expression.

Shaking his head, the bald man turned back around and frowned. The upbeat song that had been blaring through the cabin to greet the strew of visitors ready for a tour of Capitol City cut off and there was a bit of static before the booming voice of a newscaster began the daily police reports.

It was never all that interesting, but with a sense of morbid fascination Krillin leaned back and listened to the torrent of petty vandalisms and vague accounts of pickpockets until one tale made him grin.

"And be on the lookout for a pair of women, attractive and possibly armed, who have recently cleaned out the Federal Army's Capitol City safe." At this, Krillin shook his head. "These are dangerous females," the voice continued, before proceeding to give their approximate weights and heights in the universal standard. Krillin scratched his head as the newscaster went on to call the space thieves 'buxom', and he wondered who was in charge of writing these mid-day reports.

Before he could contemplate anything further, the door slid open and Chopper took a seat behind the train's controls. He listened to the brief account of a West Market vegetable thief, and asked, "Anything interesting?"

"Well, I think Bulma and Nami came to Capitol City and didn't even bother to say 'hello'."

Chopper laughed, unsurprised, and informed him the guests were all on board. Getting to his feet, Krillin entered the passenger car for the start of his tour, but found himself blushing as he caught sight of one passenger in particular. She had a folded map in her hand and the wide-eyed tourist expression, but he didn't care. She was tall, beautiful, blue haired, and, _speaking of buxom_… He cleared his throat and continued, but not without the reminder of how deprived of female company he'd really become.

* * *

><p>"Shit," Nami breathed, blinking down at the radio before turning to the sleeping blue-haired woman at her right. "Bulma," she said, louder than her curses had been, and roughly shook the other woman's shoulder.<p>

"What?" Bulma finally growled, her eyes still closed and her peaceful expression of slumber shifting to a frown.

"Listen," Nami snapped, and as the accounts of their pinch at the capitol continued, Bulma's eyes opened and she cast the radio an irritated expression. While Nami panicked in the navigator's seat, Bulma sighed as though this was simply a nuisance she didn't feel up to dealing with at the moment.

Then, her impatience melted to exasperation. "Did he just call us _buxom_?"

Nami didn't seem to find any humor or affront in this accusation, and simply paled as she thought about their newly acquired treasure being traded in for pinstriped prison uniforms.

"We're going to get caught!" She finally shouted, and Bulma shot her an impassive stare. "They'll know it was us!"

"Nah," Bulma shrugged, leaning back in her chair with a yawn. "We'll be fine."

"We will?"

"Yeah, just… give me a minute." Taking her lower lips between her teeth, she bit down and sawed the flesh gently with her incisors. "Set our coordinates to Planet Wayne in the F-quadrant."

"Uh," Nami blinked, her fingers flying over the controls, "Okay. What for?"

"For our alibi, of course."

Sighing, the redhead finished imputing their new coordinates and nodded. "Good." She was glad that Bulma was so exceptional at thinking on her feet. It was just like when they'd approached the vault where the Federal Army kept their pending payments to the capitol and the guard who _wasn't supposed to be there_ most certainly _was_; Bulma had grabbed the closest makeshift weapon, a fire extinguisher, and knocked him over the back of the head.

"No," Bulma groaned. "Not good. Dammit Nami, I _knew _we should have shot him…"

* * *

><p>There were few things that Goku enjoyed more than racing Luffy from their island house to Lunch's Diner. Very few things, in fact. He mentioned this aloud as they sprinted towards the diner, and Luffy rolled his eyes.<p>

"Goku, I'm not sure there isn't anything you _don't _like."

The taller man scratched his head as Luffy pulled ahead in the race. That was most certainly not true. There were plenty of things he disliked. Needles, having to sit still for long periods of time, Bad Guys, and being hungry, just to name a few. He shook his head, and as he tried to catch up to inform Luffy of how very wrong such a statement was, he realized while lost in his thoughts he had gotten lost for real.

The dense forest opened to a clearing where a large cottage sat at its edge, smoke from a wood-burning fire drifting from it's impressive brick chimney. At the foot of the cottage was a small pond and to its left stretched a field of radishes.

All thoughts of his race gave way to the few things that _could _in fact top racing Luffy on his list of favorite things.

Fishing, for one, was a particular beloved pastime. And eating radishes, or eating anything really, was another.

He could not tell if the pond was stocked with fish, but it was clear that the garden's radishes were ripe. Picking one, he tossed it into his mouth, and when he bent down to swipe a second he caught sight of a girl glaring at him from across the pasture.

"Oh, hello," he grinned, greeting the girl with a wave and helping himself to a second crop. "Are these your radishes?"

The petite girl started towards him, her legs closing the distance between them quicker than expected. Goku finished chewing the radish as she crossed her arms over her chest, one foot tapping rapidly against the solid earth.

"Yes," she finally managed through her clinched teeth. Goku thought she would be rather pretty, if it didn't look like her head would explode at any moment. Her cheeks flushed as he maintained eye contact and bent for a third radish. Before he could take a bite, the woman had swiped it and was clenching it in her fist.

"Oh wow," Goku laughed. "You're quick! Good job."

This only served to infuriate her further. He thought the radish might burst in her grip.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was racing my friend, but I seemed to have gotten off course." His eyes trailed from the glaring, dark haired woman to the water in the distance. "Are there fish in that pond?"

"Wha-?" She blinked a few times, and then tossed the radish at his head. He wasn't looking or anticipating things being thrown at his skull, so there was no time to dodge. Instead, it smacked him squarely and bounced off his forehead before falling to the ground with a hollow thud.

"Hey!" Goku groaned, his eyes darting from the pond to the radish to the still piqued girl. "What did you do _that_ for?"

"Go away." She sniffed. Her dark eyes narrowing as Goku rubbed his head and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"Fine." He answered, turning and walking away from the pond, the radishes, and the strange woman. Before he'd made it off her property, he turned slightly. "I'm Goku, by the way."

Her expression hardened as she watched him, unmoving, from the center of the radish patch. She didn't answer, but her foot had stopped tapping which Goku took as a good sign.

"Well," he grinned, shooting her another wave, "Nice to meet you, then."

She didn't offer a reply and so he sprinted in the other direction, hoping to catch up with Luffy. The detour would put him at a severe disadvantage, but he was a master at winning while he was behind and so didn't give it much thought.

* * *

><p>Nami had never visited this particular planet before, but she had seen enough Western films to find the irony in her surroundings. Tumbleweed crossed before their ship, and as they approached town she noted the wooden structures flanking the dirt road were labeled 'Saloon' and 'General Store'.<p>

"You have the strangest friends, Bulma," she mumbled as her companion encapsulated their ship.

"It's not going to be pretty," Bulma sighed. "But it's all I could think of at the time."

She led them to a building bearing the name 'Sheriff's Office', and Nami self-consciously patted the laser pistol at her thigh. Being in the vicinity of the law made her nervous, and though Bulma assured her they were safe, she felt better knowing it was there.

Pushing through the slated swinging doors, they met a pair of sleeping men, their faces skewed by tipped, wide-brimmed hats. Bulma cleared her throat and one of the men behind the desk jumped to his feet. At the sight of the pair of scantly clad women, his wrinkled mouth shifted into a smile. And then he laughed.

"Bulma, ah," his brows wiggled suggestively, "and what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need a favor," she sighed at the confession, crossing her arms to convey her feelings on the matter. "I see you have a new deputy, Roshi."

"Yep," the old man nodded. "Sanji!"

At the sound of his name at that decibel, the other man shot to his feet and did a quick sweep of the room. While Nami's face fell in horror, Bulma rolled her eyes at the stack of magazines that littered the desk. He was tall and slender, with long blond hair. While two men's appearances were vastly different, Bulma had no difficulty spotting the resemblance as soon as Sanji's eyes met her partner's.

"Nami," he sighed, "it's been too long."

"_This _is your plan?" Nami demanded, turning her glare on Bulma, who shrugged.

"A friend of yours?"

"We go back," Nami muttered. Bulma knew Nami's life before becoming her partner in thievery was as a navigator on a small boat on one of the border planets. The universe was small, but it always struck Bulma just how small it was at times like these.

"So," the blue haired woman nodded towards Roshi, who was staring intently at Nami's chest. "You're going to say we've been in prison here, got it?"

"What?" Roshi asked, clearly confused by the woman's sudden arrival and her strange demand. "Why would you want that?"

Quickly, she explained that they had run into some trouble and needed an alibi. "And you're going to enter a record that shows Nami and I were being held in a cell here two nights ago, got it?"

Roshi scratched his chin, and beneath his contemplative expression Bulma caught the shadow of a lewd smile. "It would take a bit of effort to fabricate records…"

Bulma's eyes rolled. "Name your price."

"Your panties."

She'd been expecting something similar, so even though her face puckered, she sighed and reached a hand beneath her skirt, tugging off her underwear. Extending them towards the old sheriff, whose eyes were now gleaming brighter than his five-pointed badge, she mumbled, "Letch."

He snatched them quickly, and though his nose bled and mouth foamed contemptuously, Bulma knew it was a much more agreeable fate than was to met for being caught stealing from the Federal Army.

"Now," Sanji grinned. Sometime during the exchange he'd pulled out a carton of cigarettes. Flicking a bit of ash from the tip of one before taking a long draw, his eyes focused on Nami. "What about me?"

Through clenched teeth, she muttered; "What do you want?"

"A kiss."

"I'd rather be locked up."

"On the cheek."

Her glare hardened.

"Nami," Bulma laughed. "At least the perv with a crush on you isn't a geezer. Just give him what he wants; it's just a kiss."

"Can't I just give the old pervert my panties?" She frowned, her eyes darting from the elderly sheriff to the grinning blond man who had once been the chef in her old crew. Though her fists clinched at her sides, Nami sighed and leaned in, giving the blond man a quick peck on his left cheek. He gave a dreamy sigh and she promptly stomped on one of his feet.

While Sanji cursed, Roshi set the panties aside and nodded in Bulma's direction. "While you're here, can I get you to take a look at my com device? It's been fuzzy lately."

Bulma rarely, if ever, fixed things when there wasn't profit involved or if it weren't for her own benefit. However, she was trying to persuade Roshi to lie to the law for her, so she took out a capsule of tools and set to work on his communicator without audible complaint.

The only interruption was the old man trying to look up her skirt, which resulted in his being conked in the head with a wrench, and occasional exchange of words between Nami and Sanji. When she was done she stepped away from the newly restored device.

"Ta-da!"

Roshi turned the dial a few times and nodded in approval while Sanji rubbed her shoulder affectionately.

"Wow Bulma," he smiled, his eyes dancing as she blinked at his sudden proximity. "You're beautiful _and_ smart. A gem, really."

"Hey, I think I like this guy Nami," she giggled, while her partner turned from the three of them and rolled her eyes.

She wished she'd just shot the guard in the capitol herself and avoided this whole mess. Or she'd gone to prison. Either way it meant she wouldn't be here, and at that moment either sounded better than their alibi.

* * *

><p>Welcome to the <em>Wonderful World of Fluctuating Chapter Lengths<em>. –sigh-

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews. You all seriously make my day. :D


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